


Volleyball-induced Epiphany

by hangoverhater



Series: Volleydorks [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Gen, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Swearing, not necessarily in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:50:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangoverhater/pseuds/hangoverhater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fuck I'm so in love with you, you can't even imagine"</p>
<p>After getting hit in the head by a stray volleyball, Iwaizumi has an epiphany. He is not okay with said epiphany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volleyball-induced Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> I blame tumblr.

It didn’t happen gradually. Well, it sort of did, but he didn’t come to realize it like they do in the movies, that sort of slow, budding thing. No. One minute he was thinking about how he should probably remind his best friend to take a breather, the next he was flat on his back on the gym floor, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how in love he was with said best friend.

His head hurt. That probably had more to do with a volleyball hitting it than the sudden realization. A face leaned into his field of vision. Wavy brown hair, brown eyes, worried frown. Frowning gives you wrinkles. Stop it. 

“What? Iwa-chan, how bad did you hit your head?”

Oh. I said that out loud, didn’t I.

“Yes, you did. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two. Three. Stop changing it, Shittykawa.”

The frown hadn’t gone anywhere. “Iwa-chan, I’m only holding up two fingers. Come on, let’s get you to the bench.”

Sitting up kind of made his head swim. That was probably not good. 

He let Oikawa and Matsukawa help him to the side of the court because ‘reliable’ wasn’t the word he’d use to describe his legs right now. He sat down on the bench, but sitting up straight proved to be too hard of a task to his twice-hit brain (first from the ball, then from hitting the floor) so he settled for lying down and clutching an icepack to where the ball had struck. 

“Fuck,” he sighed. 

Oikawa had sat down by his head and was currently carding his fingers through his hair. It was alarmingly comforting. “Coach said you can sit out practice today,” he said, keeping his voice low and even. 

Has his voice always been like that? Like, that melodic and soothing? Can’t be. 

“Fuck.”

“Was your already limited vocabulary damaged, Iwa-chan?”

No, but I think my heart was. 

“No, I think I just had an epiphany.”

Oikawa’s fingers stopped for a moment before carefully continuing. “Oh? What kind of an epiphany?”

Nothing much, just that I apparently love you and want to hold you close and kiss you and make sure no one ever hurts you for as long as I live.

Oh, he was not okay to have that conversation anytime soon. “I’ll tell you later.”

\--

Luckily for Iwaizumi, ‘later’ didn’t happen until about a month later. Since the head trauma-induced epiphany, he’d begun noticing things. Things like how Oikawa moved, how he gestured with his hands, how he was at his most adorable in the mornings. He really did get out of bed like that. It was, first of all, annoying, and secondly, not fair for anyone else in the universe. How the hell was that even possible? The guy just rolled out of bed and not a single hair was out of place. Iwaizumi knew. He’d stayed over a few nights, and he always ended up waking up before Oikawa. 

Then again, if you ignored the lack of sleep and grumpiness caused by it, waking up before Oikawa wasn’t that bad. He got to see what exactly the setter looked like when he was asleep. All the worry lines (the ones most people didn’t even know existed) were gone, he was completely relaxed and, most importantly, there was not a fake smile in sight.  


Iwaizumi hated the patented Oikawa-selfie-pose; the exaggerated wink, tongue stuck out, fake grin, fingers up in a peace sign. Aside from an actual person doing the pose, there was nothing real in it. 

When he was asleep, though? Iwaizumi thought Oikawa had never looked more beautiful. Except for when he was talking about stars and aliens. Not even playing volleyball made him look that alive and happy. It made Iwaizumi upset. After all the effort, all the pain Oikawa had gone through to be breathtakingly good at volleyball, and it still didn’t make him as genuinely happy as talking about little green men did. 

“Iwa-chan?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, and realized he’d been staring at Oikawa instead of doing his homework like he was supposed to. Shit. “Um.” Really? That’s it? ‘Um’?

“Are you feeling alright?” Oikawa frowned, tilting his head in confusion. That was also one of the things Iwaizumi had taken a note of. The cute little head tilt he did. Goddammit.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry I spaced out,” he muttered, glaring at his math homework.

He concentrated on one problem hard enough to not notice Oikawa move until he sat down next to him. Like, right next to him. Their legs were touching and everything. He froze. _Play it cool, Hajime, you’re just in love with him, it’s nothing more than that_ , his brain coached him. Thanks, brain.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa started, wringing his hands in his lap. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Iwaizumi made the mistake of turning his head towards Oikawa. The worried, open expression made all his carefully constructed imaginary walls come crumbling down like one of Hanamaki’s attempts at baking. 

He stared at Oikawa. “Ah, fuck,” he groaned, letting his forehead hit the table with a loud thud.

Oikawa flinched, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Iwa-chan?! Don’t damage your head!” He gasped.

Iwaizumi shook his head with a sigh and covered the back of his head with his hands. “It’s already damaged,” he replied, hating how pitiful his voice was.

“Does this have something to do with the epiphany you never told me about?” 

Why was that bastard so perceptive? Wasn’t being intelligent, athletic, AND good-looking enough?!

“Possibly,” he answered. He still wasn’t ready to talk about it. Maybe he was never ready. It wasn’t exactly something you just started a conversation with. Hey, I think I love you. How’s your day going?

Oikawa leaned down, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here.”

Goddammit. 

The subject was dropped, but Iwaizumi knew Oikawa wasn’t going to drop it for good. After all, it was only Tuesday.

\--

Afternoon practice appeared to be the bane of Iwaizumi’s existence for the following days. The coaches were tense and kept snapping at them, everyone’s game was off for some reason, and he and Oikawa had to do all they could to keep things from breaking out in an all-out brawl. 

By the time they were walking home on Friday, they were exhausted. Oikawa was slightly limping. 

“Don’t think I can’t see that limp, Trashykawa,” he sighed, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. 

Oikawa shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’ll just stretch it out better once I get home.”

“No, you won’t,” Iwaizumi grunted, stopping and leaning against a fence. 

Oikawa stopped a few paces later once he realized Iwaizumi wasn’t walking with him. “Iwa-chan?”

“You’re not going to stretch it out, because you think it’ll be fine, and you’ll do it again tomorrow, the day after that and the day after that, and next week you’ll do your jump serve and you’ll come crumbling down, just like last time.” He slid down along the fence and sat on the ground. What the hell was wrong with him today?

Oikawa stared at him like he’d grown another head. “It’s not going to be like last time, Iwa-chan,” he eventually huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s up with you lately?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. Oikawa rolled his eyes and snorted. “Oh, right, you can’t talk about it. I’m your best friend, Iwa-chan! Something’s bothering you, and I want to help but you won’t let me!”

“Why don’t you actually help yourself every now and then, huh?” Iwaizumi snapped, regretting his words the minute they were out in the open.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. “You know what? I will. Call me when you get your head out of your ass!” He snapped, turning on his heels and taking a few decisive steps away.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi growled, jumping to his feet. “I love you!” He yelled after the setter and watched him freeze mid-step.

“That’s it, okay?” He sighed, spreading his arms out and letting them drop back to his sides. “That’s what’s up with me. I’m so in love with you, you can’t even imagine.” 

He watched Oikawa slowly turn back to face him, shock written all over his face. “Are you serious?” The setter asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. 

Iwaizumi nodded. “That’s the epiphany,” he admitted, hanging his head. “I love you.”

Oikawa walked over to him hesitantly. “How long?” 

Iwaizumi looked up, his eyes meeting Oikawa’s. For once, he couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I don’t know, it’s a pretty recent discovery,” he shrugged with a pained little smile. “Always, probably?”

The setter stared at him, then he smiled. “You’re an idiot, Iwa-chan,” he shook his head, his eyes watering slightly. He took a breath to calm himself before hesitantly placing his hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “You were really mean to me just now, you know? I think you should apologize…” He trailed off, looking at Iwaizumi coyly.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. 

“…with a kiss,” Oikawa finished, closing the short distance between them with a final step closer.

Now they stood chest to chest, nose to nose. Iwaizumi’s brain decided to take the night off, and let him deal with this by himself. “You think so?” He confirmed with a blink. Hesitating only slightly, he set his hands on Oikawa’s waist, the butterflies in his stomach going bananas over how fucking _nice_ the simple feeling was.

“I really do,” Oikawa nodded, moving his hands over Iwaizumi’s neck to cradle the back of his head. 

The butterflies might actually be dropping dead out of sheer excitement. Iwaizumi tipped his head back a fraction, mildly annoyed by the five centimeters of height difference between them. “I guess I was pretty mean,” he agreed, leaning up enough to fit their lips together.

What the fuck, the bastard’s lips were softer than they looked. How dare he.

“Am I forgiven?” He asked, lips brushing the other’s slightly parted ones.

He felt Oikawa’s smile. “I think I might need a few more apologies.”

“Well,” Iwaizumi gave him a short peck before taking a step back, his cheeks on fire. “Come over, and you’ll get another after you’ve stretched out your knee properly.”

He stepped away from his stunned friend and picked up his bag. Without a glance, he started walking towards his house.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa caught him quick enough. Iwaizumi fought to keep a grin off his face at Oikawa’s disgruntled tone.

He faltered a bit when Oikawa grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together. He looked at him, seeing a shy smile on his face. He looked back ahead, pretending that smile hadn’t just set his face on fire. 

“I love you too, by the way.”

The setter gave Iwaizumi’s hand a little squeeze to accompany the confession. 

Ah, hell. Now there was a dorky grin on his face that he couldn’t get rid of. Figures.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
